


B is for blackmail, babysitting, Bra'tac, and bravery.

by PepperF



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-04
Updated: 2008-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-09 20:25:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperF/pseuds/PepperF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Don't try that face with me, young lady."</p>
            </blockquote>





	B is for blackmail, babysitting, Bra'tac, and bravery.

**Author's Note:**

> Hammond Alphabet Soup fic, in honour of Don S. Davis who will forever be missed. Go to sg_fignewton's post for the other 25 (+ 1 extra) letters.

"Don't try that face with me, young lady," he said, grumpily. "It didn't get you out of trouble when you painted the dog, and it won't work on me now."

"Dad, I _know_ you're busy, and I _swear_ I wouldn't be asking you to if it wasn't absolutely necessary. I know how important your job is." Cathy widened her eyes earnestly, and George Hammond frowned at her, grateful beyond measure that she had no real idea of the importance of his job.

"But, honey, I have an old friend coming to visit, and I don't know that – that he and the girls will get along." Even to his ears, it sounded like a last-ditch attempt.

"I'll tell them to be on their best behaviour, I promise. You know how shy they can be around strangers – settle them down with some pens and paper and your friend won't even know they're there."

"But, Cathy—"

"Daaaaaad, please?" She had always been able to sense when he was giving in. "The girls haven't seen you in weeks – they miss you! And I really, _really_ have to make this meeting – Devon is talking about reorganization, and I have a chance—"

George threw up his hands. "Okay! Okay!" He shook his head, as she threw her arms around his neck. "This is blackmail, you know."

"It's not – it's coercion," corrected his daughter the English major. She kissed him on the cheek. "I'll drop them off on my way into town. I don't know what I'd do without you, dad."

Only when she'd gone, did George close his eyes and sigh. And then smile, slightly, his dry sense of humor making an appearance. He wondered who would be more startled by the meeting – his granddaughters, or Bra'tac?

\---

"Old friend!"

Bra'tac stalked up the drive, leaving his chauffeur, a young lieutenant from the motor pool, to close the car door after him. Bra'tac might have only been out of the Mountain a handful of times, but he'd accepted Earth vehicles, in all their slow, smelly inefficiency, with his usual aplomb.

"Bra'tac," George nodded, and accepted the usual forearm-crushing greeting. "It's good to see you." If George wasn't mistaken, there was relief in Bra'tac's eyes. He remembered something Daniel had mentioned when they got back from Antarctica – something about how shocked Bra'tac had been when he'd learnt of George's absence from the SGC. "Not dead yet – either of us."

Bra'tac's eyes blazed ferociously. "Not for want of effort."

George nodded. It had been close. Closer than he'd been for years. Once upon a time, it had been a buzz to fly so close to the wind. Admittedly, the buzz was still there, but nowadays he found that he didn't want to dwell on chances he had taken, and reasons that seemed so much less concrete once he was back on the ground. They had won, but the price – paid in the young men and women who had fallen to the ice fields so far below, and in the leader of SG-1 who still might come home one day – seemed so much higher these days.

"I think we both deserve a drink," he said, mentally drawing a line under his thoughts. "And as it happens, I have just the whiskey." He turned them both around, and then paused as he saw who was standing in the doorway, staring without a hint of the promised shyness at the visitor. "Uh... oh, yes." He glanced at Bra'tac. "My granddaughters. I said I'd babysit them for the day. I hope you don't mind? The big one's Kayla, she's twelve, and the little 'un is Tessa – she turned ten last week. She had a pony party..." He trailed off, as a smile – no, a smirk, damn him – appeared on Bra'tac's face. "What?"

Bra'tac continued to smirk, and clapped him hard on the shoulder. "My friend," he said, with cheerful mockery, "it's good to see there is one untamed warrior left in this universe."

George opened his mouth to object, then thought better of it. "What can I say, Bra'tac," he shrugged. "Some chains are worth wearing. Come on up to the house, and I'll introduce you to a couple of people who think I'm the best because of my skills with grilled cheese sandwiches."

 

END.


End file.
